By Kathy Acker
excerpt from Janey’s diary:
I was running around with a wild bunch of kids and I was scared. We were part of the Scorpions.
Daddy no longer loved me. That was it.
I was desperate to find the love he had taken away from me.
My friends were just like me. They were desperate—the products of broken families, poverty—and they were trying everything to escape their misery.
Despite the restrictions of school; we did exactly what we wanted and it was good. We got drunk. We used drugs. We fucked. We hurt each other sexually as much as we could. The speed, emotional overload and pain every now and then dulled our brains. Demented our perceptual apparatus.
We knew we couldn’t change the shit we were living in so we were trying to change ourselves.
I hated myself. I did everything I could to hurt myself.
I don’t remember who I fucked the first time I fucked, but I must have known nothing about birth control ’cause I got pregnant. I do remember my abortion—$190.
The orange walls were thick enough to stifle the screams pouring out of the operating room. Having an abortion was obviously just like getting fucked. If we closed our eyes and spread our legs, we’d be taken care of. They stripped us of our clothes. Gave us white sheets to cover our nakedness. Led us back to the pale green room. I love it when men take care of me.
I remember a tiny blonde, even younger than me. I guess it must have been the first time she had ever been fucked. She couldn’t say anything. Whether she wanted a local or not. A ”local” means a local anesthetic. They stick large …
Author: High Times / High Times